What is it about giving things life that feels so rewarding? Is it purely the autonomy of the situation, or is there a deeper connection that happens when your touch can make something completely new? I’m thinking about seeing the first green budding appear after you’ve planted a seed, or looking at your newborn wondering how two people could have made a whole new being? These are two things I respectively have had no luck with and a point in my life which I am nowhere near. But in thinking about these real-life examples, it makes me understand possibly why it’s so addicting and satisfying for me to do in my work.
It seems so elementary, putting faces on a mountain or a plant. Like when children learn categorization skills and you tell them, “no, the flowers belong in the garden, not on the roof!” This is the freedom that I love within painting: they can be on the roof!
This form that I’ve been repeating, this plant-hand, feels strong enough of a character to have its own life. Free from control, free from restrictions, just free. So I have given it its own life, its ability to grow, sprout, breathe, float, support, love. And to be the one to build the house in which this creature lives makes me feel a loving connection to them.
My sister is starting a garden and currently has her planted seeds laid out on the kitchen table, waiting to sprout, which she will then plant into the ground. Just as she is lovingly starting new life in plants, I feel I’m doing the same, in painting.